A Bomb of a Different Nature
by createaloha
Summary: Watershed. Swing set. You know the drill. *first fic ever. tempted to continue.*
1. Chapter 1

**_This is my first go at a FF. I have a bad case of writer's block going on right now with a screenplay and thought I'd try to loosen the muscle a little bit via CASKETT._**

How many weeks has it been? Three? Four? Yes, four weeks since she became a statue atop a bomb. One month since he lovingly stood by her. Not an ounce of fear on his features. He hid it well. When he needs to, he hides it well.

Now here he sits. A statue on a swing. A face chiseled from stone. He gives nothing away. But his seriousness drips off of him in waves. Powerful waves that crash around her leaving her breathless and scared for her life.

He wants more. More than her. More than what they have. But what do they have? That's the reoccurring question that has been suffocating her thoughts for weeks. Her lip quivers slightly, but her gaze hard and unfaltering. Set somewhere, but not on him.

He is going to break up with her. He is going to set her free. Release her back into a world where she can run and hide as much as she pleases.

She hates him for doing it here. A place that once gave them both so much hope and reassurance. The place she sought out when she finally allowed herself to fully realize that all she wanted was him. But now here they sit, facing opposite directions. A fitting metaphor for what's to come.

It's his use of her full name that finally draws her eyes back to him. The sight of the ring that leaves her mouth dry and causes her to gulp down the anxious lump that had slowly formed in her throat.

And finally, it's the question. The question that makes her eyes widen ever so slightly. That stops her fragile heart from beating. That leaves her so breathless, she's forced to open her mouth for more air.

Now his gaze is hard and unfaltering. Directed right up at her. Into her. His eyes aren't sparkling with passion and excitement. They don't at all resemble what she has pictured every time she imagined this moment.

She sucks in one more mouthful of air before she finally exhales a heavy, drawn out, "Rick…"

It's her use of his first name that causes him to slowly let his eyes drift closed. He keeps them closed, holding his breath and pinching the ring tightly between his thumb and index fingers.

_He's_ waiting for the bomb to go off...


	2. Chapter 2

***Thanks for the kind reviews. So kind that I popped out another, loooonger chapter. Enjoy.***

* * *

When he opens his eyes again, she's gone. No longer perched in the swing above him. Now she's on the ground, kneeling in front of him. Smiling to herself when they make full blown eye contact for the first time since she arrived.

"Rick…"

She says it again. This time laced with more warmth, more Kate...

He fights the urge to close his eyes again._ Be brave_. He straightens his posture a bit, letting his eyes bore into hers. Intense. This time laced with a hint of desperation.

He glances down at the ring pinched in his fingers, noticing how the skin has turned a shockingly whiter shade on the pads. She follows his gaze, reaches out and feathers her fingertips along his furrowed brow.

Catching her hand, he stills it on his face for a moment before releasing it and lifting his eyes to hers. Kate allows her hand to slowly glide down the side of his face. Palming his cheek gently, her thumb brushing back and forth over his cheekbone. Steadying her breathing. In and out. In and out. With each brush of her thumb. In and out. Back and forth. Soon his chest rises and falls in perfect synch with hers.

It's only then that he relaxes enough to take notice of the tears that line the lower rims of her eyes. The sight kicks his gut, knocking the wind right out of him.

He gasps loudly, dropping down to both knees. Wincing when the full brunt of his weight takes it toll on his still healing leg.

Seeing his discomfort, she moves to cup his face with both of her hands. One hand snakes around to rub the back of his neck, hoping to ease some of the pain. Not just the physical pain.

His head lulls to the side a bit, he's leaning into her touch and allowing her more access to his neck.

"Kate…" His voice is worn out. Defeated.

The sound breaks something in her. Something new, yet familiar. He wants her. _Forever._ For _always_.

How did she allow herself to forget? Forget that he waited years. Patiently and impatiently. For _years._

She drops her hands from him and the loss of contact leaves his eyes swimming both in unshed tears and confusion.

How could she have questioned them? Him. Of course a man who was willing to get blown up just so she didn't have greet death alone wanted forever.

She grabs the hand that is clutching the ring, _her ring_ and holds it between both of hers tightly. Firmly. She needs to reaffirm. She's here. He's here. They are…together.

"Rick…"

He puts his other hand on top of hers. "Marry me." It's more forceful this time.

She can't help but roll her eyes at his familiar persistence. She needs to reassure him, herself. "I want this. I want you to know that I want this. Us. So badly."

A tiny amount of tension exits his face. "So do I. I want more of you. As much as you will give me. As much as I can…"

"Claw out of me?" She smirks.

His lips curl at that as he presses on. "Whatever it takes. I'm not letting you go. I've tried to before, and it doesn't work. Nothing…nothing works without you, Kate."

She sighs, rubbing her thumbs in circles over his clenched hand. "I know the feeling."

He frowns. A pout gracing his face. "But you didn't say yes…"

"Yet…"

"Do I need to convince you?" He puffs out his chest slightly, bits of more of himself creeping back into his words.

Another eye roll. She nudges forward, indicating for him to shift from his clearly uncomfortable position. He carefully maneuvers his body so he is seated on the grass. Tugging her forward, she willingly melts into his arms. Finding herself delicately cradled into his lap. She buries her face into his neck, inhaling him deeply.

She places a small kiss below his ear and pulls back to speak. "As much as a love your special brand of convincing, there's no need. I know I want to marry you, Castle. But this…the way it's happening. This can't be how you imagined it..."

He tightens his hold on her, dropping his forehand against hers. "The swing set is only 1 of about 100 places I imagined proposing to you. But you're right, the circumstances surrounding the question were always different in my head."

She nuzzles her face into his, her mouth ending up by his ear once more. "100, huh?"

He swallows thickly as her breath tickles his ear. "I…uh, may be greatly under-exaggerating that number."

She smiles knowingly into his ear at that. "Hm. That's a lot of proposals, Castle."

He shrugs. "One less now. The swings are officially ruined and off the table."

"Is there a different ring for every proposal?"

"Maybe. Are you saying I'm going to need to use every single proposal before you say yes?"

She pulls back, chewing on her lip. "No."

"Phew."

"But I am curious and you _are_ a writer. So after the yes…"

He quickly sees where her train of thought is headed. "Most of them are written down. I will let you read them..._all_ of them…after the yes."

She kisses him then. It's slow, like they have all the time in the world. When they finally pull back, they brush their noses together. He's first to break the spell.

"So, I'm assuming you got the job. They'd be fools not to take you. Should I be planning a DC proposal? That Washington Monument scene from Forest Gump comes to mind…or maybe the Lincoln…"

She shakes her head. "You'd really leave New York for me?"

"No. But I'd leave for us."

A contented hum escapes her lips. Then a pregnant pause. "I got the job."

He squeezes her more tightly against him. "Congratulations! We can still do detective role play, right?"

This time she suppresses her eye roll. "Always."

He beams and kisses her again. "When do we have to move?"

"_We_ aren't moving."

He's completely confused. The hurt seeps back into his face. "What? You don't want me to come?"

"Well, if you want to move to DC you can, Castle. But don't expect to find me there when you do."

He looks alarmed now. "You'd...hide from me?!"

The eye roll is back and so is the hand she places on his cheek. "Castle, I turned down the job on the car ride over here."

"You…why?"

"Because. A year ago I told you what I wanted. That hasn't changed. You are still what I want, Castle. I don't want to throw myself into another job. The next big steps I take, I want them all to be with you."

"It's a great job, Beckett. You can have it all. Me, the career…"

"It wouldn't be enough. I want more. And all of the _mores_ that I see for our future would suffer at the hands of that job."

He smiles brightly. His mind wandering to the _mores_ he's hoping she's referring to. The wedding. Anniversaries. Birthdays. Babies…

She laughs at his obvious daydreaming. She breathily calls out, drawing him back to her. "Caaaastle…"

He shakes his head clear of those thoughts and allows a new one to form. "So you're not moving? I think you should move." He has a new glint in his eye.

She frowns, searching his eyes. "You do?"

"Yes, I think you should move…into the loft. Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you move in with me?"


End file.
